Simple Life 2, Ep. 2 Recap: Trailer Park Mermaids

Paris and Nicole’s low-rent adventures continue in the Sunshine State, as they get pulled over by the police, move into their first trailer park, get jobs at the famous Weeki Wachee Springs, and then lose their boss’s 4-year-old child in a game of hide-and-go-seek. Who says this show is unrealistic and contrived—I mean, haven’t we all had days like this?

Cop an Attitude

I wonder at first if I’m watching the correct show: it begins on a highway at night, with strains of “Bad Boys” playing in the background, the flash of police car lights, and the sound of a siren. The only thing from keeps me from confusing this show with “Cops” is the fact that Paris Hilton is in the drivers’ seat, looking panicked, asking, “Are we getting pulled over?” and Nicole Richie, applying lip gloss in the passenger seat, answering with an incredulous, “Shut up!”

After some amount of time, Paris finally pulls over. As is standard procedure, the officer asks for license and registration, to which Nicole answers, “We don’t know where any of this stuff is,” as Paris fiddles with her hair. They eventually hand him some scrap of paper, which I assume is either the registration or a note saying “FOX will compensate you generously for your appearance,” before he informs them that the blue lights on their truck is a second degree misdemeanor which could land them in jail.

He again presses Paris for her license. “I don’t have it on me,” Paris responds, scratching her head, “My secretary’s Fed-Ex’ing me a new one.” As is NOT standard procedure, he just lets this fact slide right by—I thought driving without a license is a serious offence, much more than having blue lights. Personally, I’m aghast that FOX would allow the star of their show to drive around the country like that. If this were anybody else (say, non-blonde, non-white, non-hot chick), they would not be, as Paris is, getting treated like a queen. You could bet your bottom dollar, they’d be on the ground outside right now getting treated like a King—Rodney King, that is!

The officer goes off to do whatever coppish things policemen do after they pull you over, giving Paris and Nicole time to reflect. Paris ponders aloud how blue light could be illegal because “In L.A. everyone who’s ghetto has them.” Nicole snorts, “Who do you have to [bleep] around here to get out of ticket?” Paris laughs, then says that this cop doesn’t look like the kind you can flirt with, but just in case, she breaks out a compact to fix her makeup.

Looks like she didn’t even need to. The cop returns and gives them only a “warning” because “I know you’re from out of state.” The girls say “Thank you,” in their highest, girliest voices, then drive off laughing. “Got away again,” Paris boasts.

From Brentwood, California, to Brentwood Trailer Park, Florida

Who says they don’t get fancy accommodations? When it’s time for the girls to turn in for the night, they go to Brentwood. Okay, so Brentwood Trailer Park is a bit of a far cry from the posh Brentwood section of Los Angeles, but this is their home for the night. The girls go see the manager to get a spot for the Airstream. Nicole, picking up quickly on trailer park behavior, hits on a 13-year-old boy, and the manager directs Paris to their space, adding a warning about the “killer ducks” in the area.

Hungry, the girls hunt the cupboards of their kitchen. “Soup is good,” Paris offers, holding out a can of Campbell’s (smoooooth product placement, folks), and Nicole grumbles that she doesn’t like canned food. “Learn to like it,” Paris says, sounding surprisingly practical for a change. The manager says that they don’t have propane, so they will not be able to heat up the stove. Paris, hungry, says “I’m just gonna microwave this.” I am, for a moment, impressed with these signs of self-sufficiency in Paris—that’s until she puts a metal pot in the microwave to warm up her soup, where it sputters and sparks dangerously. I thought putting metal in the microwave was one of those rules that everyone just inherently knows, like not looking directly into an eclipse without protective eyewear, but apparently it’s not. Even Nicole does not catch Paris’s mistake, they only notice a strange smell and smoke in the air. The manager comes in and luckily stops the girls just before they blow up the entire trailer.

Finally the girls settle in for the night, tucked up in their only bed with Tink and Honey Child, after exchanging tender good night sentiments. “Love you, Bitch,” Paris says to Nicole. “Love you, Bitch,” Nicole says to Paris. Then they snuggle beneath pink blankets, leaving 13-year-old boys everywhere in a state of open-mouthed wonder. Ducks quack menacingly outside. At some point, the girls realize they left the trailer door wide open, so Paris gets up to lock it for the night.

Grand Slam Breakfast

Morning at the trailer park. Paris wakes up to find Tink missing. As she walks around the park, low-rise hiney pixellated, calling for Tinkerbell around the lake, the producers show us shots of the gigantic killer ducks over ominous music. Tink, dressed snugly in a turquoise coat, finally runs to her mistress, who returns to the trashed trailer where Nicole is (natch) applying makeup.

When is the best time to make friends? When you’re hungry, of course. The girls go round to meet their neighbors, which include a strange, toothless, elderly, and apparently mute woman that they find cute, and other kindly strangers whom they quickly inform “We don’t have any breakfast.” They find a nice family who makes them sausage, eggs, potatoes, and juice. They find out the family has been there a month. Nicole asks where they go to the bathroom, and Paris answers for them, saying, “That bucket over there.” That’s a really nice way to talk about the people who’ve just fed your starving narrow ass. Later, back at their trailer, Paris writhes on the floor, moaning, “I feel so sick from that food. Ew.” “It was so gross,” Nicole adds.

Fishy Business
Bernie, the trailer park manager, comes over to inform the girls that they are to report for their first job at Weeki Wachee Springs, a tourist attraction/water park famous for their mermaid shows, then demonstrates for the girls how to unhook the trailer from the truck so that they can do it later. Who are they kidding? The girls will never do this themselves.

The girls arrive in admittedly cute, summery outfits at Weeki Wachee Springs, where they meet Robin, the general manager, and Sativa, the “mermaid manager” who is in charge of all the mermaids. They have the girls watch one of the shows (basically like an underwater burlesque with cheesy costumes) to get an idea of what their job will be like. Paris watches, looking entertained as a 4-year-old child, while Nicole looks not at the tank, but at herself in a compact mirror as she applies more lip gloss. “Any questions?” Robin asks, looking proud. “Has anyone died?” Nicole blurts. Robin and Sativa look at Nicole and Paris with barely concealed loathing behind their eyes. Nicole pays special attention to the big swimming turtle, about whom she comments, “That was sexual.”

Adventures in Babysitting

The girls get to know their co-workers a little better over lunch. The marketing manager of Weeki Wachee asks Paris and Nicole if they will babysit her daughter Kayla for the night. Are you frickin’ crazy, lady? I’d rather tie my child to a tree until I got home.

Anyway, that evening, Monica drops her daughter off at the girls’ trailer. “When’s here curfew?” Nicole asks. “She doesn’t go out,” Kayla’s parents inform them. Warning, warning, danger!!! Nicole just wants to know, “like if we took her to a bar or something.” RED ALERT! Monica leaves her anyway with a list of rules, including “no cursing” around her. “That’s hot,” Nicole says, nodding.

To pass the time, the girls play a game of extreme dress-up with Kayla, gussying her up in 40 pounds of makeup, huge teased hair, Pucci scarves, and an electric pink boa. Kayla loves it, and the girls take a picture. I don’t know how pleased Monica will be to see her daughter transformed into what looks like striptease dancer from Lilliput.

Nicole looks over the list of no-no’s from Kayla’s mommy. “No sweets after 8.” Paris rips open a bag of candy and hands some over to Kayla. “No playing with matches…no cursing in front of Kalya.” They don’t hand her a box of Diamond brand matches, but they do start to ask if she will say “ass.” Kayla laughs, but refuses, even though Nicole evilly harangues her to “DOOOO IT!” Nicole then asks Kayla, “What rhymes with ‘witch’?” I’m just glad that list didn’t say, “No heroin.”

Finally, they decide to play Hide-and-Seek. In the dark. In a huge, not so well-lit trailer park. What a fine idea. Paris and Kayla hide while Nicole is in the bathroom. Nicole finds Paris easily, as she is standing behind a tree right outside the trailer. She is almost skinny enough for this to work but, “I see a little bleached blonde action,” Nicole coos. “I didn’t want to go any farther, I was scared of the dark,” says the Paris, who last time I checked was 23-years-old, and therefore a full-fledged adult.

Well you can very well figure out what happens next: they have a hard time finding Kayla. They wander around the trailer park, hollering out to anyone who’ll hear, “Has anyone seen a little girl…in a boa…and a mohawk…and a lot of makeup?” Suddenly, a car pulls up. It’s Kayla’s parents, coming to collect her. They explain to Monica, casually, that they were playing hide-and-go-seek and are still trying to find Kayla. “What?” Monica says, looking genuinely freaked out, “You have no idea where she is?” They form an impromptu search party with the parents who call out for their daughter before the trailer door swings open and out pops Kayla, holding Tinkerbell.

“Bye gorgeous,” Kayla says to the girls (dear Lord, what have they started with this child?) before leaving her parents. Monica hands the girls some cash and thanks them. Nicole takes a look at their pay. “Ten [bleeping] dollars? That could pay for like one nail to get a manicure.”

Chickens of the Sea

The next day they girls return to Weeki Wachee Springs for their mermaid audition. Sativa gives Paris a glittery fuschia tail and a top, and Nicole gets (beat) the “sexual” turtle costume (officially named “Chester”). She puts the headpiece on, and says “It smells like [bleep] in here.” Paris gets into her costume, exclaiming, “My boobs look huge in this.” Boob job theorists can relax now; see, it is all about the push-up.

Robin takes them out for their training session, saying that while the girls probably think it will be easy to just go out there and look pretty, the mermaid show is hard work. Robin and Sativa drop them into the water. Paris yells out that the water is cold. Sativa, voice dripping with bitchy delight, calls out, “Have fun!” Robin and Sativa laugh, make catty little digs, and yell instructions over a microphone as they watch Nicole muddle around in the turtle costume and Paris shiver and look miserable.

Eventually, Paris is able to master some of the mermaid moves, but Nicole has a harder time with Chester. She looks like an apoplectic hippo. They are not, however, able to get the breathing down, so it looks like their mermaid job is a bust. Robin and Sativa talk about having headaches and needing to drink.

Everyone calls it a day, and Paris and Nicole hit the showers, on-camera and in slow-mo, of course. “Don’t drop the soap,” Nicole says cheekily. Some of the other mermaids talk about going out after work to decompress. Robin and Sativa take the girls aside and inform they are not good enough to be in the show tomorrow. Pouty and disappointed, the girls meet up with the other mermaids to drink and dance their blues away, atop the bar at a local Coyote Ugly. As Paris shimmies in a short skirt, I wonder two things: 1) what happened to the monster bruise she got from “Old Red” at the Batten Ranch, and 2) why they don’t just try exotic dancing for money. Ah well, 2473 miles to go!